


More I Cannot Wish You

by katayla



Category: Little Women (2019)
Genre: F/M, POV Outsider, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/pseuds/katayla
Summary: Four times other characters thought about Amy and Laurie, plus one.
Relationships: Theodore Laurence/Amy March
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	More I Cannot Wish You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mustlovemustypages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustlovemustypages/gifts).



1.

Amy had never confided in Mrs. March as the other girls did. When she'd been hurt at school, she'd run to the neighbors. When she fought with Jo, she complained to Meg. But Mrs.March knew her daughter. Amy was determined. She'd shown that in her art and, now, she had taken on the burden of saving her family.

_I believe you remember Fred Vaughn,_ Amy wrote. _He's a lovely man, quite handsome, and has done me the honor of escorting me around Paris. He's been learning his father's business and has done quite well for himself. He tells me that he shall soon be established enough to make a home of his own._

Mrs. March did remember Fred Vaughn and had not a word to say against him other than Amy's praise read as a recitation of facts. Amy did not write as one in love. And, oh, Mrs. March wished her youngest daughter was just a little less prudent. 

But another letter had arrived that morning–this one written hastily, unlike Amy's usual careful handwriting.

_Oh Marmee! Laurie is here! He is already plaguing me and refuses to do anything useful with his life, but oh–he's brought a taste of home today._

Mrs. March folded the letter carefully. She'd done all she could and now all she could do was pray for Amy–and Laurie–to see what was in front of them.

2.

Meg _had_ meant to marry rich. She loved pretty things and she was the oldest. Surely it was her responsibility to provide for her sisters. Only John's warm brown eyes had driven all thoughts of that out of her head and now her life was complete in their snug little home with their darling babies.

Beth was too sick to marry and Jo–what Jo didn't understand was that Meg just wanted her to be happy. For Meg, that had meant John. For Jo, it was ink stains and books. And that left Amy, who was the most practical of them all. Amy, whose head was turned by European art, and not at all by Fred Vaughn. Meg couldn't regret her marriage, but she regretted leaving her sister with fewer choices.

Laurie had come by to see Meg, John, and the babies before he left for Europe. He was in a subdued mood–Meg knew why–and yet she saw just a glimpse of light in his eyes when he mentioned visiting Amy.

And long, long ago Amy had whispered a secret to Meg in the middle of the night.

_Don't say yes to Fred Vaughn too soon._ Meg crossed her fingers and, for a moment, felt as young as Daisy and Demi, as she wished the thought to speed across the ocean to her sister.

3.

Aunt March was well aware the rest of her family thought her a miserable old lady. She was not. She was an _independent_ old lady. Jo and Amy both longed for freedom, but the former thought she could get there by dreaming hard enough, so Aunt March had focused her energy on the youngest March. Amy was pretty and elegant and would make the perfect companion to any gentleman.

And Fred Vaughn was young and handsome, which was far more than you could ask for from most wealthy men looking for the perfect wife. If Amy married him, Aunt March would be free to leave her house to Jo and that would be the Marches taken care of.

Amy understood her duty. She'd accepted Fred's invitations to dance and blushed prettily at his compliments. The slow dance of courtship was well underway.

And then Laurie showed up and Amy was all fire and passion and–Aunt March was also a _practical_ old lady and Theodore Laurance was a wealthy young man. Yes, Amy would do well for herself.

4.

Jo dropped the letter in the river and watched it drift away. So Laurie was in love. And Amy–oh, had Jo missed it all these years? And she called herself a writer. Shouldn't she have seen this story being written long ago?

The letter drifted out of sight and Jo let out a long sigh. No, she didn't love Laurie. And she'd seen the look of reassurance pass between Amy and Laurie. She'd seen the true worry in Amy's eyes.

Amy and Laurie. It was a story that fit. The beautiful sister and the rich neighbor. And yet that was unfair. The sensible sister and the generous dreamer.

Jo turned to walk back to the house, her steps speeding up as she went. She had her best friend back and he was happy. She had her sister back. That was a much better cure for loneliness than an unhappy marriage.

+1

Amy departed her childhood house in a flurry of hugs and kisses. Her husband lounged by the door, his eyes on her. All the way on their trip back, whenever they left their stateroom, his eyes would follow her as she strolled the deck and made conversation with their fellow passengers.   
And now they were home and if she had worried a little it would be different, her doubts had begun to fade as she was surrounded by the old love and the new.

"Are you happy, my lord?" Amy asked, as they strolled in the twilight towards the Laurance mansion. As children, they darted back and forth between the houses in a matter of minutes. Tonight, Amy's steps were slow. In Europe, they were only Amy and Laurie. When she stepped into that house, she would be Mrs. Laurance in truth.

Laurie stopped entirely then and slipped his arm around her waist. "Amy. _Yes_." 

"Do you think they approved?" Amy asked. "I know–it might not be quite what they expected."

"I think they are very happy for us." Laurie brushed a kiss against her hair and Amy relaxed further into his arms. "And are you happy with your wealthy husband?"

"I am happy with _you_ ," Amy said. She raised her head and pressed a kiss against Laurie's mouth.

"Come then, Mrs. Laurance. Let's go home."

Laurie stepped back and bowed to her and then, hand-in-hand, they ran the rest of the way there.


End file.
